


A Bit With A Dog

by damnslippyplanet



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chiyoh Is The Saltiest Pile Of Salt, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Restaurants, Will and Hannibal Are Emotionally Incompetent In Every Universe, Winston Makes A Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnslippyplanet/pseuds/damnslippyplanet
Summary: Chiyoh schools her face into its best neutral expression, the one that should read non-threateningly to Dog Boy while communicatingI am considering how to kill you with my mind alone for this nonsenseto Hannibal.Or: The AU where the Lecter siblings run a restaurant, their sister Chiyoh tries desperately not to get caught up in their nonsense, Hannibal has a crush on their mushroom supplier, and he just wants to talk about his truffle hound.  An entirely fluffy bit of nonsense for darkpriestess' birthday, with love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkpriestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkpriestess/gifts).



> What darkpriestess WANTED for her birthday was Will being salty, Hannibal being a romantic nerd, vampires, and/or a bit with a dog. What she's getting is almost none of those things, alas. I settled in to write a little bit of something in the [Truffle Pig Winston AU](http://damnslippyplanet.tumblr.com/tagged/truffle-pig-winston) I like to muse about occasionally but never actually write, but I realized very quickly that getting these two emotional idiots together was going to take a while and could not be done in time for our lovely Fannibal friend's birthday. But then suddenly Chiyoh popped up and was like I HAVE ENOUGH SALT FOR THREE WILLS, AND ALSO WHAT IF I HAD A DOG IN THIS 'VERSE and, well. It wasn't the muse I actually was seeking, but it's the muse that presented herself, and hopefully will still be a good birthday present since there is, in fact, a bit with a dog. Happy birthday, buttercup. <3
> 
> Unrelated: Did you all know that Shiba Inus scream? I did not find a way to work that into this story, but assuming I do come back one day and write the fuller story of these nerds falling in lurve, I'll be sure to work screaming Shibes in there somewhere.
> 
> (Also unrelated: I was mostly joking when I typed in "Original Dog Character", but I am delighted to find that not only is that an accepted tag, but there are accepted tags to specify the sex of your original dog characters. WHAT EVEN IS AO3.)

It’s been a while since Chiyoh stopped by Dvaras this early in the day; it’s jarring to see the lot so empty.  Hannibal’s Bentley sits neatly next to Mischa’s sporty red whatever-it-is she’s driving this year.  There are a couple of other cars in the staff spots, and a pickup that seems to be on its last legs, and otherwise she’s spoiled for choice.

Kitano’s soft, curious  _ whuff _ behind her alerts her to the other dog before she actually sees him, but after a moment she spots a fluffy brown tail disappearing behind the truck. A good distance, then, just in case the other dog is ill-mannered.  She picks a spot far across the lot and clips Kit’s lead to his collar before they head for the restaurant.

They only get halfway across the lot before Mischa comes barrelling toward them at high speed and pulls Chiyoh into a hug before grabbing her by the elbow and steering her a few steps in the opposite direction.

“ _ Tell me _ he didn’t drag you out here at this hour,” she demands, before Chiyoh can get a word in.

Chiyoh shrugs and glances toward the truck, but Hannibal’s on the other side of it with the dog.  Kitano’s tugging at his leash, but only slightly.

“He said you two needed me.  He offered to pay the fee for a rush job, so I assumed it really was urgent.”

Mischa can make an eye roll look more elegant than anyone should.

“He knows you’re not going to charge him.  You should, just to teach him a lesson.  We did want to talk to you about a redesign for the menus, but I was just going to ask you at dinner next week.”

Kit tugs a bit harder, and Chiyoh looks over to see the other dog has poked its head around the side of the truck now.  He’s mottled different shades of brown, ears alert and curious as he peers at Kit.  Kit lets out a low whine, and Mischa sighs.

“Sorry, Chi.   _ That’s _ why you’re here. You’re bait for the truffle dog.  Or Kit’s bait, really.  You’re just the delivery girl.”  Something about that seems to delight her; she grins on the word  _ bait _ , showing the pointed canines that run on Mischa and Hannibal’s side of the family. 

_ It’s not too late to get back in the car and go home for another two hours of sleep _ , Chiyoh thinks longingly.  More sleep, a cup of coffee, maybe a trip to the range later, and none of her brother’s schemes.  The notion has its merits.

“Talk fast,” she says, and lets Kitano start leading the way toward the other dog.

Mischa sketches the situation quickly as they walk, in broad outlines.  The new forager is cute --  _ if you like the scruffy type, which I could have sworn none of us did _ , she adds with a sniff -- and Hannibal’s getting absolutely nowhere with him.  Hannibal’s charm offensive failed, an offering of  _ grybai _ cookies failed, he’ll talk about mushrooms but even Hannibal can only drag that out for so long as a conversational topic.  He makes his deliveries and awkward small talk and leaves, and he barely takes his eyes off the ground at any point in time.  

Except, apparently, to talk about his dogs. Hence:  _ bait _ .

Chiyoh only got one cup of coffee this morning, and put on actual pants and shoes before noon, all because her brother can’t get laid on his own. Or rather,  _ could _ get laid on his own easily, but has his sights set on what he can’t get easily.  Because god forbid he ever do the simple thing when there’s a challenge to be had instead.

Ugh.

He’s going to owe her so many favors.

She schools her face into its best neutral expression, the one that should read non-threateningly to Dog Boy while communicating  _ I am considering how to kill you with my mind alone for this nonsense _ to Hannibal, as she rounds the corner of the truck.

She pulls Kit up short until she can suss out the dog dynamics.  Dog Boy does the same as soon as he catches a glimpse of Kit, making a quick low sound that pulls the spotted brown mutt over to his side.  Dog Boy glances up at Chiyoh briefly but his eyes skitter away, back to Kit.  The clipboard he’s holding in his hand drops down by his side, instantly forgotten as he takes in Kit’s proud stance and fluffy, alert tail.

Hannibal steps in, smooth as ever, to make the introductions.  Or  _ almost _ as smooth as ever.  If Mischa hadn’t clued her in already she’d have caught it herself. He says  _ Will _ more often than strictly necessary and lingers over the syllable too long, stretching it out like taffy.

_ Will _ is their new mushroom provider.   _ Will  _ owns several acres in Virginia and forages there with his dogs.   _ Will  _ has done wonders for the risotto.   _ Will _ is the best thing to happen to Dvaras in years, Hannibal strongly implies but doesn’t  _ quite _ say.

Chiyoh manages not to snicker, barely, but she does eventually cut in to handle her own half of the introductions.

“Chiyoh,” she offers with a handshake that Dog Boy returns firmly, but releases quickly as if he likes touch about as much as he likes eye contact.  “I’m Hannibal’s other sister.”   She grudgingly gives him a single point when he doesn’t flick his eyes back up to her face for a double-take at the notion of a Japanese sister, or ask anything stupid about her adoption.  “This is Kitano.”

“He’s beautiful,” Dog Boy says, just as Chiyoh was starting to wonder if he actually had a voice.  “This is Winston.  He’s well behaved with other dogs, but I can put him in the truck if that would be better for you and Kitano.”

Weird, but polite.  It’s something.  Hannibal stands behind Will casting a pleading expression at Chiyoh, eyes hopeful.

_ Ugh _ , again. 

“It’s fine.  We’ll introduce them and then Kit should be all right.  I’ll keep the leash on just in case, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Introductions go smoothly, after a bit of interested sniffing.  (The sniffing is all on the dogs’ part, but it doesn’t escape Chiyoh’s notice that Dog Boy is wearing an aftershave so terrible that it’s a miracle Hannibal’s willing to get anywhere near him, fussy as he is about scents.)  Kitano comes out on top of the pecking order, which doesn’t seem to bother Winston.

“He’s the newest of seven,” Will offers from down on the ground where he’s crouched next to Kit, rubbing at his ears.  “He’s getting used to being low man on the totem pole.”

“Kit thinks he’s the most important person in any room.”  Which he  _ is _ , as far as Chiyoh’s concerned, but that’s a silly bit of sentiment she’s not telling Dog Boy about.

Will pets at Kit for a moment longer and then glances up at Chiyoh, a brief burst of eye contact in which she notices his eyes are startlingly blue.  “I never met a Shiba that didn’t,” he says, and there’s an actual smile, a quick firefly-flicker of a thing, there and gone.

When Chiyoh glances over at Hannibal, she thinks he might possibly be having a heart attack.  A very understated heart attack, but a heart attack nonetheless.

_ So. Many. Favors.  _

“You know Shibas, then.”  

Will nods and stands up, a more fluid motion than she’d have expected, as if he loses some of his stiffness when he’s engaged.  “I’ve never had one, but I’ve known a few.  Smart as hell, but mostly they don’t do well in packs. I don’t think they’d be happy at my place.”

“Stubborn,” Chiyoh murmurs, allowing one eyebrow to quirk just slightly as she meets Hannibal’s eyes over Will’s shoulder.  “Headstrong, manipulative, charming, and challenging to work with.  Traits I had some experience with even  _ before  _ Kitano came into my life.”

A coughing outburst behind her tells her Mischa’s been tracking the conversation and is trying not to actually laugh out loud.  Hannibal narrows his eyes at both his sisters before bullying his way back into the conversation, now that he’s gotten what he wanted - Will engaged and distracted, not beating a hasty retreat back to his mushroom kingdom.

“I’ve wondered if Kitano could be trained to do what Winston does, Will,” he asks.  As if there is even the smallest chance that Chiyoh would let Kitano go  _ digging _ in a  _ forest _ .  Or that Kit would consent to do it, fastidious as he is.

Will seems to be considering it, though.  “I’m sure he’s smart enough, but you never really know if a dog’s going to have the right feel for it until you take them out.”  

Chiyoh gathers every shred of patience she has about her, and every bit of hostess charm that Lady Murasaki so carefully taught her and she so rarely bothers with, and says, “I haven’t had enough coffee to plan a new career for Kit at this hour.  Hannibal, can you make us something strong enough to wake me up?  Will can tell me about Winston while it brews.”

That’s all it takes, really.  Just a little shove, and the promise of a willing ear to listen to tales of his dog’s muddy exploits, and Dog Boy is good and hooked.  Chiyoh’s done her part to get him through Hannibal’s door; he’s Hannibal’s to reel in or not, now.  She just wants her damn coffee.

Hannibal holds the front door open for all of them, canine and human, as they troop inside. Will gathers up a box of mushrooms from the truck  and follows Hannibal into the kitchen as Mischa, Chiyoh, and the dogs settle in at one of the tables, not yet set for service.

The door swings shut behind the men, and Mischa reaches out to clutch Chiyoh’s hand dramatically.  “Please tell me you think he’ll talk about something besides the dogs when he’s less nervous.  I always thought we’d get a brother-in-law who could talk about music with me.”

Chiyoh looks down at Winston, sitting patiently by their feet but staring fixedly at the door his human disappeared through, and shrugs.  “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

Mischa lets out an amused little  _ hm _ of a noise before answering.

“I’ve been watching this stupid dance for weeks.  He never takes his eyes off Hannibal’s ass when he’s checking over the deliveries.  He just doesn’t have the first clue what to do about it.  They’re idiots.  They deserve each other, if they can ever get it together.”

“You could have told me.  We could have come up with a plan that started later in the day.”

“I was trying to give them time to be grown-ups and use their words.”

“Since when is Hannibal tongue-tied?”

“Since the old mushroom guy retired.” Mischa grins again, then dismisses the entire topic with a wave of her hand.  “Not our problem now.  You got him in there with Hannibal, your job’s done.  If Hannibal’s so far gone he can’t charm a man in his own kitchen, he’s got bigger problems than we can help with.  You did your part.  Can we talk about the menus since you’re here, or do you need the coffee first?”

Chiyoh glances at the kitchen again, but the doors remain firmly shut.  If there’s a conversation going on, she can’t hear it.  Will doesn’t seem to be emerging to get another box of mushrooms or to reclaim his dog, though. 

She runs a comforting hand down Winston’s back to let him know that if he’s forgotten it isn’t for long, and turns back to Mischa.  “Sure.  But I really am charging extra for the morning call.”

“Normal price plus pie for breakfast.”

Chiyoh considers asking what kind of pie, but she knows that whatever it is will be perfect.  Her siblings may be kind of assholes sometimes, but there’s a reason their restaurant does so well.

“Pie for breakfast and something for Kitano and Winston, too.”

“Deal.”

They make a great show of a formal handshake, mostly for their own amusement, then spread out the old menus across the table and get to work on a revamp.

Hannibal and Dog Boy don’t emerge for quite some time.  When they do, Mischa gives Chiyoh an entirely un-subtle significant look. It only takes a moment to realize what it’s about. Hannibal leads the way with the coffee, and when Will follows with a plate loaded down with tiny sweet pastries, his attention isn’t on the plate, or Chiyoh and Mischa, or even Winston. 

Chiyoh gulps the first cup of coffee in a matter of moments and sends Hannibal back to the kitchen just to test the observation.  Sure enough: Dog Boy may have trouble with looking people in the eyes, but he apparently has no problem making eye contact with Hannibal’s ass as it makes its way across the room and back through the swinging doors.

Mischa vaguely attempts to hide her snickering behind a cherry danish.  Chiyoh would like to roll her eyes, but they were all brought up better than that, even if the lessons didn’t stick to Mischa.  She draws Will back into a discussion of Winston’s training, and watches his demeanor become more relaxed as he forgets to be nervous.  Like this, she can  _ almost _ see what Hannibal’s interested in. Almost.  

Coffee stretches into breakfast and then into more coffee. Chiyoh realizes she’s become superfluous around the time Hannibal and Dog Boy disappear into the kitchen in the middle of a vigorous argument about shiitakes that Chiyoh can’t even pretend to be interested in.  Winston trots at their heels, which probably violates twenty different health code violations, but that’s not Chiyoh’s problem.  She gathers up her notes on the redesign and gets ready to leave.

“Give Hannibal my love,” she instructs Mischa, who flips her hand toward the kitchen dismissively.

“He may not notice you’re gone for a while.”

“He’ll surface eventually.  Tell him the next time he calls me out before ten I’m disowning him.”

“Yes, ma’am.  Anything else?”

“Hm.”  Chiyoh considers for a moment.  Dog Boy is clearly weird, but then their whole family’s a bit odd.  Hannibal could do worse, probably.  If he made an effort.  “Tell him Kit wants to meet the rest of the pack before he gives his blessing.”

Kit perks up at his name, but pulls toward the kitchen instead of following Chiyoh to the front door.  She nudges him forward and doesn’t bother to hide the eye roll this time, when it’s just family.  “Come  _ on _ , Kit.  You’ll see Winston some other time.”

He goes reluctantly and insists on stopping to sniff at the ground near Will’s truck before they leave.  Probably somewhere Winston peed earlier on.

“I hope you’re just good friends, Kitchan,” she tells him sternly as she loads him into the backseat.  “We’re going to have our hands full enough with Hannibal and Dog Boy.  Gay interbreed dog romance is the last thing I’m prepared for today.”

Kitano lavishes her with a long, wet, gross slurp on the cheek in response.  She scrubs her hand across the wet stripe, dries it on Kit’s fur, and then drops a kiss on to the top of his head.

“I hate everyone, Kit.  Everyone in the entire world.  Let’s run away, huh?  Back to the castle, you and me.  No forwarding address.”

He _ whuffs _ at her curiously, and she sighs, defeated.  He’d miss his new friend, apparently.  And she has work to do, real paying work, before she can get to her family project that pays off in pie.

“Everyone,” she repeats, and slides behind the wheel to get as far away from her family, as fast as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me over on [Tumblr](http://damnslippyplanet.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk to me further about Will roaming the woods with a pack of truffle hounds. We should all be talking about this more. Also, shout-out to canis_m/unicornmagic, who had the Will Needs To Hunt Mushrooms idea at the same time I did, and wrote it [first, and beautifully](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8303680/chapters/19015702).


End file.
